Listening at Doors
by Scarlet Silverweaver
Summary: Life used to be easy for the Drake sisters: they were smart kids; they had friends; their parents were two of the most powerful magic-users in history, teaching at the most prestigious magic school in the Spiral... and then a decade-old secret revealed itself. (alternate storyline) (pairings: Cyrus/Gloria, slight Malorn/OC, established Malistaire/Sylvia
1. Prologue: July 2012

A/N: You need to read the chapter titles or you will be confused.

* * *

A Diviner crept through the halls of Morganthe's stronghold, blood dripping from the tip of her amethyst sword onto the Spider Queen's priceless marble floors. Not that she -the Diviner, that is- cared. She grinned to herself in a rather demented way. She might finally get revenge on the woman who ruined her life.

Making sure to be absolutely silent, the Diviner continued to tip-toe down the corridor. Just as she began to wonder how long the marble-floored passageway could possibly go on, she came to a vast outdoor arena made of a shining material she didn't recognize. The Diviner almost shut her eyes from the light, but she managed to keep them open. Closing her eyes would go against years of training.

Gazing around the arena, she saw no trace whatsoever of the Spider Queen's trademark brand of magic: Shadow. The Diviner was not so sure that Morganthe had fled.

"I have a score to settle with you, Morganthe!" the Diviner yelled, a manic fire in her normally icy eyes. "I want to see your blood on the pavement!"

Morganthe Sauda seemed to appear out of nowhere, smirking and adding a sinister air to an arena already crowded with a different form of madness. "Spirited, aren't we?" she asked.

The Diviner's eyes flashed with hatred. "Skip the banter and let's fight," she said. "I'm not letting you escape again."

"But banter is half the fun," Morganthe said in a mock-disappointed voice.

"This isn't a game, Morganthe," the Diviner said, gritting her teeth.

"Au contraire," the Spider Queen said conversationally, "I find it's rather like chess."

The Diviner was not amused.

"Very well," Morganthe said, raising her black-bladed dagger. "If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you'll get."

She whipped her dagger in the precise movements of a black widow's body, but by the time she'd finished, the Diviner had already conjured up a tower shield. Now it was the Diviner's turn to smirk as she raised her blood-coated sword.

"I'm not the helpless little girl I once was, Morganthe," she said. "You can't make me cower in the corner anymore."

Morganthe scowled. "That didn't make any difference to your mother," she said, "She was a grown woman and she still fell at my feet."

The Diviner did her best to seem unfazed, but her eyes betrayed her. For just a moment, the mad fire in her glare disappeared and was replaced by troubled waters. Then it was gone.

"My mother," the Diviner said, "hadn't been training herself to fight you for almost 7 years."

She vigorously slashed at the air, exciting a purple spark that Morganthe deflected with a mere wave of her dagger.

The Spider Queen rolled her eyes. "That's hardly-"

But the Diviner learned what her spell hardly was, because she'd made a near-fatal hit, a flash of yellow lightning, in the time it had taken Morganthe to from that half sentence. Morganthe Sauda was left on her knees, virtually defenseless.

The Diviner approached her mother's murderer, relishing every step. "Do you know how long I've waited for this moment?" she asked. Then, after a brief pause, she answered her own question. "7 years."

"I've waited 7 years to give you what's coming to you. 7 years of training to kill the woman that ruined my life and ended my mother's. 7 years to have you at my mercy," the Diviner growled, fire in her eyes blazing into a white hot inferno, moving her sword just parallel to the Spider Queen's bare throat. "And I finally have you."

"Wait, I've seen this before…" she said, not even flinching, "that look in your eyes. It reminds me of someone…"

The Diviner scowled and prepared to strike.

"Ah yes," Morganthe said, grinning crookedly, "That's the look I wore when I cast that parasite spell on your mother."

The Diviner froze.

"You know, you and I aren't so different."

"You're wrong," the Diviner told her. "You kill without purpose. I'm killing to avenge my mother's murder."

Morganthe chuckled. "Do you honestly think that I kill without reason? I'm not a monster. That would be too easy wouldn't it? To swipe that sword and just put down a rabid dog? You think you're such a hero? So moral? So righteous? You think you are the better woman? Then prove it. Kill me and I destroy what ever it is you hold dear in here!" Morganthe reached out and jabbed the Diviner's chest. The girl flinched.

"You can stand aside and lose me for another few years," the Spider Queen continued, "or you can kill me and, in turn, become me. Is your soul really worth my life?"

The Diviner scowled again, "I'll take my chances."

"Oh, that's right," Morganthe chuckled, "Your soul shattered a long time ago, didn't it? Is that why you joined your dear daddy? To prove you were still worth something?"

The Diviner's sword dug into her enemy's neck, starting a trickling stream of crimson.

"You really aren't that different from me," the Spider Queen said, "We both have no place in utopia."

The Diviner's sword bit into Morganthe's neck, and the slow trickle of crimson became a steady stream. The Spider Queen was dead in a matter of minutes.

"Give my regards to Malistaire," the Diviner said icily, just as her sworn enemy's eyes were closing for the last time. "Tell him his little princess says hello."


	2. Chapter 1: March 2005

"I can see my house from up here!" a small voice exclaimed from the top of a very tall magnolia tree.

"You can see the house from down here too. We're in the backyard," another voice commented from the bottom of said tree. The little girl who the voice belonged to looked like a little angel in her immaculate white dress, with her elfin face, jade eyes, and un-mussed chestnut hair. To top it all off, she was only about kindergarten age and very, very frail-looking.

"Spoilsport," the voice from the top of the tree huffed. "You know, if you weren't so stuck-up, you might have fun. But, nooooo, Bartleby forbid mommy's little angel play like a normal kid."

"Haley!" the little girl gasped. "Language!"

"You sound like Mom," the voice (Haley) scoffed, closer now, perhaps toward the middle of the tree.

"You should listen to her," the girl cautioned.

There was a shriek and a heap of gray cloth fell from the magnolia tree. "Ow," it said.

"…like when she says to not climb trees when it's getting dark," the girl finished.

The heap of gray cloth uncurled into what was obviously a girl not too much older than the one in the white dress, maybe by one or two years, who wore a gray dress. Haley had a mop of messy black hair, amber eyes, and an oval face. She had a more sturdy-looking build than the other girl.

"My dear sister," Haley said, getting up and dusting herself off, "one day you will learn."

"Learn what?" the younger girl asked.

"Exactly," Haley responded, not really answering the question at all.

"Saffron, Haley!" a musical-sounding voice called.

Both girls dashed through the screen door in the back of their light stone cottage. The door slammed behind them as they entered the kitchen directly inside, where a woman waited.

"Girls, how many times have I told you _not_to let that door slam?" the woman asked. She just like an older version of the younger of the two girls, aside from wearing wire-framed glasses, having curlier hair, and wearing house clothes (aka. green, snowflake-print pajamas) at the moment. She always said they were more comfortable than her work clothes. No one could argue with that.

"Too many," Haley mumbled.

"Around 250," the younger girl (Saffron) guessed.

The woman smiled. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Saffron assented.

"Okay, Mom," Haley said hurriedly.

"Your plates are on the table," the girls' mom told them.

Haley stampeded into the dining room, while Saffron calmly trotted. Both sat down rather sloppily in the end, and it was actually quite an amusing sight. It was even more amusing if you considered that the two were sisters.

Haley stared at the bowl on her placemat with some mixture of dismay and curiosity. "What _is_that?" she asked after a moment. Her mom looked thoroughly offended.

"It's vegetarian chili," she answered.

"No, it's slop," Haley corrected.

"Okay then," the girls' mother said exasperatedly, "you can call it slop. Just eat your dinner."

"Mommy," Saffron cut in, "where's Daddy?"

"He had some make-up tests to give after school," her mother said somewhat more patiently. "He should be home any minute."

"You said that an hour ago," Saffron pointed out, taking a bite of her chili.

"I know I did, and it's starting to worry me," her mom said, "Last time he was this late… let's just say it involved dragons."

"Dragons?" Haley asked, suddenly interested.

"Yes, dragons," her mom confirmed, "Now _eat_."

"Eat _dragons_?" Haley asked, mortified. Saffron smiled.

"Your _dinner_," their mom said sternly. "_Now._"

"I'm full," Haley whined.

"But last time you ate was lunch," Saffron said, slightly confused. Haley kicked her under the table. "Mommy, she kicked me!"

"I did not!" Haley protested.

"You did too!" Saffron argued.

"Did not!"

"Did too!'

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Stop it!" their mom yelled. "Both of you are going straight to bed after dinner!"

The girls hurriedly stuffed their chili in their mouths, knowing that it wasn't wise to take too long if

their mother's temper was short. Saffron and Haley had wolfed down their dinners in less than five minutes and were in bed in less than ten.

Saffron was asleep as soon as she hit her mattress, a trick Haley had not (and indeed never would) master. Unfortunately for the elder sister, it would be several hours before she would even start to feel tired.

Just as Haley was drifting off to sleep, she felt something poke her side, and poke her side, and poke her side, and poke her side, and poke her side.

"Haley-" Saffron began.

"You know that thing you just did?" Haley growled, "Don't do that. Ever again."

"Haley," Saffron said, ignoring her sister, "I'm scared."

Haley sighed. "What is it this time?"

"I had The Dream again," Saffron said pitifully, clutching her teddy bear tightly. Haley knew immediately what her little sister was talking about. Saffron had been having that one recurring dream for the past year. It scared the younger girl so much that she never told anyone what it was about or who was involved, not even her mother.

"Alright, you can sleep in here tonight," Haley said resignedly, knowing that both her sister and her conscience would plague her for a long time if she didn't say those words. Haley scooted closer to the wall on her twin-size bed (which should honestly be called an "only-child-size bed" because there is no way twins would ever fit comfortably on one) to make room for her little sister.

"Goodnight, Haley," Saffron said sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah, just go to sleep."

The next morning, Haley awoke to the unfamiliar sound of three adults arguing in the living room. It wasn't one adult ranting and the other reasoning, or even two adults arguing and one trying to break it up, but three adults in an all-out verbal war against each other. Saffron, being a heavy sleeper, was undisturbed. As the shouting quieted somewhat, Haley's curiosity got the best of her and she crept to the living room doorway to investigate. Careful to stay hidden by the door, she leaned in until her ear was touching the wood.

"-need to think! You can't go running off like that, Malistaire!" a man's voice yelled. He had a painfully obvious Marleybonian accent.

"That's easy for you to say," another man's voice (Malistaire) replied. "You couldn't take a real risk if you wanted to." Like the first man, he also had a Marleybonian accent.

"Malistaire, that's enough!" Haley's mother said sternly over the ruckus. "Cyrus, you too. This is none of your concern."

The two men ignored her.

"Maybe if you were a stronger wizard, we wouldn't have gotten into that situation in the first place," Malistaire said accusingly. "Face it, brother; you belong in the library, not on the battlefield."

"Malistaire…" Haley's mother warned.

"You're nothing, Cyrus, just a tag-along to more talented wizards," Malistaire said.

If a pen had been dropped at that moment, Haley -and everyone in the living room- would have heard it.

"Goodbye, Sylvia," Cyrus said as the shock wore off, then he left with out another word. The fact that he didn't address his brother showed just how upset he was. Haley, being Haley, decided to do a bit of snooping, so she went out of the back door and followed Cyrus to the Myth tower.

Through the door, she heard his end of a phone conversation that would change everything for the worse.

"Yes," he said, then, somewhat more dryly after a short pause, he added so quietly that Haley had to strain to hear it, "I know where Sylvia and Malistaire Drake are."

There was another pause, somewhat longer than the first.

"No. They live at house number four in the Commons in Wizard City. They teach at Ravenwood." Another short pause. "Of course I do, Mori."

Then came the click of a phone being hung up.

Haley had no idea who "Mori" was, but she intended to find out, just as Sherlock Holmes always intended to solve a case once he got hold of it. Though, Haley's particular case would require much more eavesdropping and illegal activities than any of Sherlock Holmes's ever did. Let me assure you that as Haley stood there in her black Skullcrusher Mountain t-shirt and grey flannel pajama pants, with the sun barely rising behind her and a mother back home who had no doubt noticed her daughter's absence, she was in for much more adventure and emotional trauma than I dare to write just yet.

And so it was that the seven-year-old eavesdropper fancied herself a spy and lurked back through Ravenwood and the Commons only to find her mother waiting at the door with her hands on her hips, tapping her white bunny slipper clad foot.

"Where were you off to?" Sylvia (her mom, if you recall) demanded.

"I…um… I was… um…" Haley stuttered, for once at a loss for words.

"I thought I made it clear last time that there was to be no sneaking out of the house," Sylvia said.

"I… I found a rock?" Haley said hopefully, holding out a stone she had picked up on her way back home. Sylvia ignored her daughter and grabbed the girl's arm, hauling her back inside to the kitchen. Sylvia got out the bottle of dish detergent.

"Open your mouth," she told Haley. The girl vehemently shook her head.

"Mm mm."

"Haley…" Sylvia warned, but Haley didn't want dish soap in her mouth. "I'll give you to the count of three, and then you get a spanking _and _the soap."

Haley's eyes widened. Dish soap was second only to a spanking.

"One…"

Haley debated with herself. She really didn't want that soap on her tongue. It had a bad taste that just didn't go away. On the other hand, she also didn't want a sore rear end.

"Two…"

The girl decided it wasn't worth it and opened her mouth wide. Sylvia squirted a drop of soap on her daughter's tongue.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" the woman asked.

"Whoever put the word 'apple' on the label should be frost beetle-d," Haley told her mother. Sylvia was not amused.

"So are you going to sneak out again?" she asked.

"Not 'till I have to," Haley answered.

Sylvia seemed satisfied with the answer and let go of Haley's arm. "Your breakfast is on the table."

Haley walked over to her typical seat, sat down grumpily, and stared ruefully at her scrambled eggs and hash browns. She wasn't a big fan of mixing things with the taste of dish detergent. Soap tasted bad enough by itself.

Saffron, meanwhile, was gazing out of the window at something. "What's that?" she asked.

Haley turned her head to see what her sister was staring at. "It's a bee," she deadpanned, poking her scrambled eggs disdainfully.

"Don't bees sting?" Saffron asked fearfully.

"Not those," Haley said, grinning. "They're meat bees. They don't want to sting you, just eat your flesh."

Saffron whimpered.

"Haley, don't scare your sister," Sylvia scolded, then she said somewhat more consolingly, "Saffron, those are just regular bees, don't worry. They aren't going to sting you unless you go out there and bother them. Did you know that bees die after they sting something?"

Saffron shook her head.

"Their stinger is attached to their body," Sylvia explained as she sat down for breakfast. Haley knew she'd always wanted to be a science teacher, but once she came to Wizard City, she knew she would never be able to take some muggle science seriously again.

Haley looked bored, and, unable to think of anything else to do, shoveled hash browns into her mouth. And immediately regretted it. Blegh.

"Did you have to give me the soap right before breakfast?" she asked.

Sylvia sighed. "You can have breakfast later."

Haley grinned. "Can I go play with Malorn?"

"No," Sylvia said. "He has class today, remember? Just like I have work."

Haley frowned. Sylvia checked her watch.

"Oh, I'm running late," she noted. She snapped her fingers and was suddenly in emerald green slacks, a suit jacket of the same color, a white button down, and brown Wizard-City style boots. "Do you girls think you can get to Gloria's alone today?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," Saffron answered.

"Yes," Haley said.

"Alright," Sylvia said and kissed each of her daughters on the cheek. "I'll see you after work."

"Bye, Mommy!" Saffron smiled.

Sylvia smiled back.

"Be good, alright? Haley, I don't want to hear about any more thunderstorms in Gloria's house."

"It was just that one time…" Haley said.

"Be good," Sylvia told her.

"Okay," Haley surrendered.

"Bye, girls," Sylvia said, giving a half smile.


	3. Chapter 2, Part 1: April 2005

A/N: I had to split this chapter into two parts because it's _way_ too long as a whole.

* * *

Three weeks passed without incident, and Haley was beginning to think that she could forget all about what she'd heard that day. Maybe Cyrus had been ordering dinner or something.

That is, three weeks passed without any incidents that Haley saw. Behind the closed doors of Ravenwood's Death school, a battle was being fought that would eventually determine the fate of thousands of people, but for right now would only cause the death of one unaware, but not unrelated, woman.

"Where's Daddy?" Haley whispered to herself, wandering through Ravenwood. _Maybe he's at the Death school_, she thought as she passed the Fire school, her overlong jeans scraping against the cobblestone path and her black t-shirt looking orange in the glow from Bernie the Fire Tree's branches. She finally came to the Death school and was just about to open the door.

"Don't be a fool," she heard a woman inside say jeeringly. "You know that my conscience disappeared when I was still a child. I'm not lying when I say she'll die if you deny me one more time. All you have to do is say you'll join me in my conquest of Celestia."

Haley bit her tongue to keep from saying something as she leaned against the elder wood door. _Who's going to die? What conquest of Celestia? What _is_ a conquest?_

"Over my dead body," Malistaire's voice replied venomously.

Haley peeked through the door's window and caught just a glimpse of the woman who said the next words. She had long, dark hair; eyes that seemed to be made of green shadows, and a cruel sneer.

"As you wish," the woman said in a tone as cold and unfeeling as a steel blade in a snowstorm. Then she disappeared in a flash of gray light and what looked like skulls.

Haley slowly backed away from the door, hands over her mouth and a horrified expression on her face. "Oh no," she whispered, "Oh Bartleby no."

The girl ran away, back home, through her front door. "Mom! Mom! Mom!" she yelled frantically.

"Yes? Yes? Yes?" Sylvia responded from behind her bedroom door.

"Come out here!" Haley screamed.

"Hold your horses," Sylvia said, exiting her bedroom in a long, white gown. "Now, what do you want to tell me?"

"Well you know how I was at Ravenwood and I found Daddy. He's at the Death school with some scary lady who says she's going to _kill_ somebody and then Daddy. And-" Haley said hurriedly, so fast that the words started to blur together and form one very long, very awkward word. So it actually sounded more like: "youknowhowIwasatRavenwoodand IfoundDaddyhesattheDe athschoolwithsomeladywhosays shesgonna_kill_somebodyandthendaddyand-"

"Slow down, slow down," Sylvia said. "Now, what _exactly_ did you hear?"

"The scary lady said, 'Don't be a fool. You know that my conscience disappeared when I was still a child. I'm not lying when I say she'll die if you deny me one more time. All you have to do is say you'll join me in my conquest of Celestia.' And then Daddy said, 'Over my dead body.' And then the scary lady said, 'As you wish,' and she disappeared in a poof of skulls."

"What did the lady look like?" Sylvia asked.

"I think her eyes were black or really dark green. I couldn't tell. She had short black hair, maybe to her shoulders. And she looked really mean, like Lex Luthor kind of mean." Haley said rapidly.

"Sweet honey baklava," Sylvia half-whispered. "Haley, did you tell anyone else about what you heard?'

Haley shook her head, glad to have done something helpful for once. "I came right home."

"Good," Sylvia said. Was she paler than usual? "I need you to keep this a secret, okay? Don't tell another living soul about it."

Haley, perplexed, nodded her head. Being Haley, she was already searching for clues or loopholes.

Dinner that night was much more tense than usual. As the girls sat down at their spots, only Saffron seemed oblivious to the way no one was talking. Haley knew the girl was an angel and all, but even angels noticed quiet.

The older girl looked around the table. She took after her father in many ways for the most part, with the possible exception of having her mother's nose, but she was like her mother in one very important way. Haley noticed people and, unlike her father, didn't have much trouble figuring out what they were feeling.

As a result, she noticed that Malistaire was much less lively than usual (which was funny in that odd kind of way, since he taught Necromancy at Ravenwood) and did precious little other than poke his chicken parmesan with a fork.

Sylvia was acting strange as well. Normally she might be asking about everyone's day, but she scarcely uttered a word. It was most unlike Sylvia to have nothing to say.

Saffron looked overjoyed at the quiet and was eating her dinner as if someone had just told her Christmas was rescheduled to tomorrow.

Haley herself, meanwhile, was trepidatious. She knew that something was going to happen because of what she'd overheard behind the Death school doors. Someone was going to die, but who was it?

As Haley prepared to go to Gloria's house the next weekday morning, like she always did, the amber-eyed girl got an idea. If she was going to find out more about the woman from the Death school, she would need to ask someone, but that would require telling them about what she'd seen and heard. Specifically, Sylvia had said "Don't tell another living soul about it." Haley had an idea, but it required stealth and the ability to talk to the dead, only one of which Haley had. Necromancy was not exactly her forte, despite what some may think.

"Malorn," Haley whispered, grinning. Surely she could convince her best friend to skip class for one day to prevent a murder. Haley could make up an excuse in a jiffy.

And so it was that as Saffron and Haley made their daily two block walk to Olde Town, Haley told her sister about the plan. Not the specifics, of course. Saffron was a huge tattletale.

"Saffron, I have to go to Ravenwood," Haley told her little sister.

"Why?" Saffron asked.

"Malorn has…um…been behind in class lately, and I have some extra work to give him," Haley fibbed.

"Oh, okay," Saffron said. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye," Haley said, and dashed off back through the Commons and to Ravenwood. "Now what's Malorn's secondary school?" Haley wondered aloud, knowing for a fact that secondary classes were in the morning. _Ice_, she recalled. The eavesdropper dashed off past the Storm school and to the snowflake-bordered school beside it. She opened the door.

"Professor Greyrose," she said, "Can I borrow Malorn Ashthorn for a moment? My daddy needs to talk to him about some extra credit work."

"Of course," Professor Greyrose replied, "But if this is a trick of some kind, your parents will hear about it."

It took all of Haley's willpower not to gulp. Professor Greyrose might have come across as a sweet Mrs. Clause figure, but when push came to shove, she'd fight back. "I know," Haley said trying to hide her anxiety.

"Malorn," Professor Greyrose said, "Please go with Miss Drake."

The young Necromancer nodded and walked to the back of the classroom, where Haley waited, and the two exited the Ice school. Malorn had spiky black hair that was badly in need of a trim, bright green eyes that put Haley in mind of a cat, and wore black and gray wizard robes with a jester's hat of the same colors. He was probably about ten years old.

"I thought I was going to have a heart attack," Haley said when they got outside.

"I'm guessing it's not extra credit, then?" Malorn asked. Haley gave him an odd look.

"I don't even see Daddy during the workday," Haley told him. "I definitely don't carry messages for him."

Malorn nodded and the two walked back past the Storm school and through the Commons.

"So why did you get me out of class?" he asked as they were in the tunnel to the Shopping District.

"I need your help," Haley replied.

"With what?"

"I need to talk to some ghosts."

There was a pause.

"You know if anyone else had said that to me, I'd tell them they were crazy," Malorn grinned. "You still could have waited, though. Now I'm missing class and both of us are going to be in trouble."

"It's worth it," Haley said determinedly.

Malorn raised an eyebrow. "Who _exactly_ do you want to talk to?" he asked cautiously.

"I don't really know," Haley answered.

"I can't help you, then," Malorn said. "Do you at least have a reason to contact them?"

"A murder," Haley said grimly. Malorn stared at her.

"Who died," he asked blankly.

"No one yet," Haley explained, "I know someone is going to die, but I don't know exactly who is going to kill them or why. I just know it'll probably be soon."

"So why do you want to talk to someone who's dead," Malorn asked.

"I'm not supposed to tell another living soul the specifics, and I think that's kind of important," Haley elaborated. Malorn nodded unsurely.

"I know where we might find someone, then," he said. The two kids were in Triton Avenue by this point, having walked the path to Baron Mordecai's tower so many times together that it was where their feet naturally led them if they started walking and didn't pay attention.

"Where," Haley asked.

"You know that cemetery at the end of the Haunted Cave, right?"

"Yeah…" Haley answered. Then it set in. "We can't go there," she protested.

"Why," Malorn asked. "Come on, it's a quest I got at apprentice level!"

"Because," Haley started, but she couldn't find a reason, so she stopped there. "Fine, but I better find answers," she grumbled.

"Don't worry," Malorn laughed. "The ghosts there are actually pretty friendly. And I know one who can definitely help you. She's buried in Zafaria, but she haunts the cemetery."

"How come?" Haley asked. At this point, she noticed that she and Malorn were just inside the Haunted Cave.

"She won't tell anyone, but I think it's because she died there and she still has business to settle in Wizard City," Malorn said. "She's helpful for finding the right people when it comes to murders, though, that's for sure."

Haley nodded pensively as the pair came upon Stormdrain Tower.

"Ladies first," Malorn said, gesturing to the graveyard whose dying grass was covered by a thick layer of fog for no apparent reason. On top of that, the head markers weren't exactly welcoming. They looked old and crumbling. One even had a headless angel on it. Haley wasn't normally a particularly superstitious person, but headless angels weren't just a bad omen: they scared the living daylights out of her. The girl shivered from a combination of fright and the chilly wind that always seemed to blow throughout the Haunted Cave.

"Right behind you," Haley told him, clueing him in that she didn't want to go in there first. He _was_ the Necromancer, after all.

"Alrighty then," Malorn said, straying off the path and into the cemetery without any further hesitation. "You know Death students have to come here alone to learn a spell at level seven."

"I suppose it's worth it then," Haley commented.

"Not really…" Malorn crouched down to inspect a particularly weathered headstone with a large reddish-brown splotch on the corner of it. "Poor thing," he mumbled.

Haley gave him a curious look. "What?"

"You know how I said this ghost was murdered in the graveyard," the Necromancer asked.

"Yeah," Haley replied, coming closer to the headstone. Malorn pointed to the splotch.

"I think this was the murder weapon," he said.

"How can you murder someone with a tombstone," Haley asked, feeling a mix of awe and horror. Mostly horror.

"You can murder someone with anything if you know how to," Malorn said thoughtfully, "I'd say she got pushed into the headstone, judging by the way the blood splattered in this direction, and it cracked her skull. That's judging by the fact that there's so much blood in one area and it all appears to have been spilled within minutes."

Haley stared at him, wondering, not for the first time, exactly what the boy had done before going to Ravenwood.

"At any rate," Malorn said, "We should try to find the ghost. She tends to stay near the tree." He pointed to a white ash tree a few yards away, for Haley's benefit.

"Was she a Theurgist," Haley asked. The two had reached the tree.

"No," Malorn said, "She was from one of the elemental schools, that's for sure. She just has that attitude."

"Oh."

"Don't be alarmed if I start speaking Latin," Malorn said.

Haley rolled her eyes. _Always the showman._

"You don't have to show off," Haley told him.

"I'm not," Malorn assured her. He turned in the direction of the tree. "Kendra! Kendra, te quaero, ut vivis ac mortuis apparebunt."

Haley smiled, having read this chant in a volume her father kept laying around. It was called _Summons for Every Occasion_ by T. , and Malistaire often commented on what rubbish the book was. Haley figured she'd tell Malorn about that later. For now, though, she'd just enjoy his lack of knowledge for once.

"Well 'hi' to you too," someone said from one of the lower branches of the ash tree. When the ghost girl appeared, Haley could see that she had very dark skin, black hair, and the same green eyes as the woman Haley had seen in the Death school a week before. She had on a thigh-length purple dress with long sleeves, leggings of the same color, darker purple boots, a lavender hood, and she was carrying a purple sword. She looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old.

"Hi, Kendra," Malorn said. The Kendra smiled.

"I'm guessing that girl over there is why you're here," she asked, motioning to Haley.

Both children nodded. Kendra hopped down from the tree and landed with more grace than any living person could manage, and, indeed more grace than most non-living people could as well. She walked over to Haley, her footsteps not making a sound.

"You look familiar," Kendra said, studying the girl for any sign of recognition. "Have I met you before?"

"I don't think so," Haley answered uncomfortably.

"Maybe I know your mom or dad," Kendra reasoned. "Who are your parents?"

"Malistaire and Sylvia Drake," Haley replied.

"So that's why you look so familiar," Kendra concluded.

"I came to ask you about a potential murder," Haley said, giving Malorn a look that clearly said _you don't need to hear this_. He stepped away to the edges of the cemetery, just out of earshot.

Kendra gave Haley a curious look.

"I know someone is going to die, but the only other thing I know is what the murderer looks like," Haley told her.

"What _does_ the murderer look like?" Kendra inquired.

"She's got black hair and her eyes look like yours and she's really pale," Haley said,  
"And she looked really mean like Lex Luthor."

Kendra's form flickered as a pained expression crossed her face. "Mori," she whispered. "It's Morganthe."

"Who?" Haley asked.

"It's an old friend of mine: Morganthe Sauda," Kendra told her. "How long ago did you hear about this?"

"A week ago," Haley answered.

"Then it's too late," Kendra said regretfully, "She always makes good on her threats within eight days. You'll find out who it is by tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," Haley said dryly, but as she turned to walk away…

"I'm sorry," Kendra added. "Make sure you tell your mom that, okay? Tell her you went to me. Tell her what I said." There was a desperate look in the ghost's eyes.

"Okay," Haley replied.

But she never would tell Sylvia what Kendra had said.


	4. Chapter 2, Part 2: April 2005

A/N: I really have no excuse for this being so late, and I'm sorry for that. I got caught up in some stuff and... yeah. Sorry. Really.

Also, this is _not _a happy chapter. I cried when I re-read it for editing... you've been warned.

* * *

That night, much to Haley's chagrin, the Drake family had ham sandwiches for dinner, because Sylvia wasn't feeling well and Malistaire insisted on cooking. Needless to say, Malistaire had never learned to cook much more than Spaghetti-O's.

"Does it _have_ to be ham sandwiches?" Haley whined.

"Yes," Malistaire said flatly, "unless you would rather have badly prepared spaghetti."

"How do you mess up spaghetti?" Haley asked incredulously, taking a bite of her sandwich. She made a disgusted face. "More to the point, how do you mess up a ham sandwich?"

"Be nice," Sylvia croaked, somehow still managing to sound stern despite a sore throat. Haley figured it must come from being a teacher.

"Yes ma'am," Haley said and continued to eat her somehow ruined sandwich.

"So, Haley," Malistaire said conversationally, "Where were you and Malorn?"

Haley nearly choked.

"What?" she said. She carefully swallowed her food.

"Malorn wasn't in class today and you weren't at Gloria's house," Malistaire said, "So I put two and two together and figured you snuck off somewhere and got Malorn to come with you."

Haley swallowed, both out of nervousness and because some of her food was starting to protest its place in her stomach.

"Nowhere," Haley lied.

Malistaire kept looking at her.

"The Haunted Cave," the girl admitted.

"Why?" Malistaire prompted.

"I wanted to solve a mystery about that gate with the skull on it," Haley fibbed, "I didn't know what was behind it, so I asked Malorn, but he didn't know what I was talking about. So, I had to take him to the gate and show him what I was talking about."

Saffron stared at her in disbelief, but Malistaire seemed willing to accept Haley's explanation.

"No one knows what's behind that gate, and it's likely no one ever will," Malistaire told her. "It's one of the best kept secrets in Wizard City."

Haley nodded thoughtfully. She had actually been curious about the gate for some time, but she'd never asked about it. It was a good thing, too, or her story would have been somewhat flawed.

Everyone continued to eat in silence.

"Well this is a good quality long, awkward pause," Haley said suddenly. Everyone stared at her. "I'll just shut up now."

Saffron grinned.

After dinner, something felt amiss to Haley. She had a bad feeling and she didn't really know why, aside from the looming murder that hung over her head like a sword of Damocles. And somehow, that just wasn't it.

After hours of tossing and turning until it was well past her bedtime of eight o'clock, Haley decided it was time to turn the tables on her little sister. The older girl got up from bed and ran across her room, out into the pathetic excuse for a hallway that separated her room from her sister's, and pushed open the door. She tiptoed over to the bed across the room.

"Saffron," Haley whispered, "Hey, Saffron." Haley shook her sister. "Saffron, get up!" she yell-whispered.

Saffron grunted and swatted at midair. The older girl sighed, and placed two fingers a small distance apart on her sister's arm, then pulled the fingers together, pinching Saffron. Hard.

"What was that for?" Saffron squeaked.

"I need your help figuring something out," Haley said. Saffron tried to glare at her, but wound up looking cute instead of terrifying.

"What?" Saffron asked.

"I feel like something bad is going to happen," Haley said.

Saffron's attempt at a hostile expression turned into one of seeing something unfold. It was a lot like someone's expression while watching the beginning of _Hamlet_ for the second time, knowing what tragedy would soon ensue.

"Just like in the dream," Saffron whispered so quietly that it was barely audible.

"What did you say?" Haley asked.

The younger girl shook her head hurriedly and pulled her sheets up almost over her head. "Go back to bed, Haley," she said, "It's late."

Haley gave the lump in the sheets a curious look as the older girl exited the room, wondering what exactly Saffron had been on about.

A few days later by the dining room window, Saffron was trying to explain how something could be both alive and dead at the same time. It was something she had read about and she was eager to tell Haley about as well.

"But wouldn't that just make it undead?" Haley asked.

"No, but as I'm sure you know, that's not the point," Saffron said.

"Who cares about 'the point'? I like to stay as far away from points as possible, thank you very much," Haley stated. "They're sharp!"

Saffron facepalmed as Haley ran to check the sundial outside.

"I have to go!" the older girl yelled as she dashed past Saffron and slid to the front door. Haley slipped on what looked like black ballet slippers and ran out the door in her sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"I have to get to Nightside before Daddy today," she whisper-panted, running past the tunnel to Unicorn Way and into the water by Rainbow Bridge. Haley took a deep breath and ducked under the waterfall. Soaked, she walked in the small dirt tunnel behind the wall of water to the bramble-covered doors at the end.

Haley wrenched open one of the doors and ran inside. She was pleased to find herself alone. "Sicca," the girl said, and she was instantly dry. _Hooray for unarmed magic!_

Haley sat down on the dying grass to wait for Malistaire to appear. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, then thirty, then forty-five, then an hour. The girl grew concerned.

"Daddy's never been this late to knife-throwing before," she mumbled, getting up. "Even if class is running late, he should be here by now."

The girl dusted herself off and trudged back out of Nightside, under the waterfall, out of the water, down the path past Unicorn Way and into house number four. She fully expected to find both of her parents at home, Malistaire having forgotten about knife-throwing that day. Instead she found only her little sister sitting alone on the couch, looking shell-shocked.

"Saffron, do you know were Mom and Daddy are?" Haley asked breathlessly.

Saffron nodded mutely.

"Where are they?" Haley asked her.

Saffron shut her eyes as if trying to close out the world.

"Where are they?" Haley asked again, grabbing her sister's shoulders.

Saffron's eyes remained closed and tears were appearing at the corners.

"Where, Saffron?!" Haley demanded, more panicked now, shaking the younger girl slightly.

"We were in here," Saffron began slowly, still not opening her eyes, "Daddy was just leaving to meet you at Nightside, and Mommy was helping me read _Ozma of Oz_, when she just started coughing and she didn't stop for a long time. But when she stopped coughing on her hand, there was blood on it.

"She just looked at her hand for a minute and said 'is that my blood?' like she couldn't believe it. And then she started coughing again. She couldn't breathe right because she was coughing so much, so she passed out. Daddy took her to a healer, but he told me to stay here and wait for you because he didn't want me to go in Nightside. He said it was too dangerous after what happened last time."

Saffron looked up at her big sister with wide green eyes. "I'm scared, Haley," she said shakily. Looking at her little sister like that, so tiny and helpless, awakened something inside Haley. She sat down next to her sister and put an arm around the younger girl.

"Do you know which healer?" Haley asked after a moment.

Saffron shook her head. "Not for sure, but it's probably Miss Wu. She's the closest."

"We should go," Haley said, withdrawing her arm.

The two girls got up and walked out the front door and down the lane to the Unicorn Way gate, where they saw Private Stillson, a city guard. As the two sisters tried to enter the gate, he stopped them.

"Halt!" he said. "None shall pass!"

"Let us through," Saffron said tearfully. The guard looked pityingly at the girl.

"Sorry," he apologized, "but it's the rules."

"Let us in," Haley said, glaring daggers at the man.

He swallowed. "No one is allowed in without permission from either a resident of Unicorn Way or Headmaster Ambrose. It's the rules," he repeated.

Haley kept glaring.

"Did Professor Sylvia and Professor Malistaire come through here?" Saffron asked.

"I'm not allowed-"

"That's rubbish!" Haley told him. "We have a right to know where our parents are."

Private Stillson hesitated for a moment. "It's against the rules… but… yes, they did."

"Can you please let us through, then?" Saffron asked.

"No," Private Stillson replied, "you have to have permission from a resident of Unicorn Way or the headmaster."

Haley ran up to the barred gate and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Diego! It's Saffron and Haley! Can you let us in?"

A…how do I say this? A gray, white-maned unicorn on his hind legs, who wore a conquistador's outfit minus the hat and somehow carried a sword, trotted up to the gate. Private Stillson couldn't help staring at Diego the unicorn sword master, but the girls thought nothing of it: they encountered stranger things on a daily basis.

"Do you give permission for these two to come in?" the guard asked uneasily.

"Yes," Diego said. That about did it for Private Stillson, who Haley knew was a recent transfer from a far off world called Earth. The guard undid the old lock at the bottom of the Unicorn Way gate and the bars flew up.

Private Stillson groaned and Haley heard him mumble something illegible.

Saffron and Haley dashed through the gate.

"Thanks, Diego!" the older girl yelled back as they neared the gazebo in only a few seconds flat. The sisters ran the entire distance to the end of the way, reaching a house only a few yards away from the Hedge Maze. Saffron knocked a little too quietly. Haley sighed and knocked quickly and rather severely.

She heard a muffled "come in" from inside. Haley turned the doorknob and grabbed her sister's hand as it opened. The room was empty.

"Hello?" Haley yelled.

"I'm upstairs," the voice said, now somewhat less muffled. "Just stay down there."

Saffron sat down on the floor of the one-room first story, while Haley tried to interest herself with the various objects around the room. She soon found out that her efforts were futile and she joined Saffron on the floor.

"Do you think Mom is going to be alright?" Haley asked.

Saffron didn't answer for a while. "I hope so."

"There's something you're not telling me," Haley told her.

"There's something _you_ aren't telling _me_," Saffron responded. "There are really a lot of things, but I just want to know one. Why did you get soap in your mouth?"

"Which time?" Haley asked. The possibilities were endless.

"The morning we had eggs and hash browns," Saffron answered.

"I'm not allowed to tell you," Haley lied.

"When did _you_ start caring what you were allowed to do?" the younger girl asked.

"Good point," Haley said. "I was listening in on a phone call in the Myth tower."

"What was it about?" Saffron persisted.

"You don't want to know," Haley assured her. "Your argument is invalid."

"Okay," Saffron said. "What did you want to know?"

"That dream," Haley replied, "What was it about?"

Saffron took a deep breath. "You really want to know?"

Haley nodded vehemently.

"It happened exactly like this," Saffron said. "Just like what's happening right now. Only it ended with… oh, I can't do it."

"Do what?" Haley asked

"Tell you how it ended," Saffron said, "Because then things would get even worse."

"How?" Haley said.

"Do you remember those few weeks when I was always at Aunt Gloria's bookshelf, even more than now?"

Haley nodded.

"I decided to try some fortunetelling when I'd read about it. I didn't even think it would work, but it did," Saffron said, looking truly haunted, "just not in the way I expected. Things started popping up in my dreams, terrible things. I saw people getting tortured and dying. I know most of those people, but I'm not allowed to tell anyone exactly who or what I saw until it's already happened. Otherwise, things will get worse for all of them."

Haley stared at her little sister. "You're lying," the older girl said.

Saffron shook her head. "Why would I lie about something like that?" she asked.

"To get out of telling me what that dream was really about," Haley answered quickly.

Saffron sighed. "Have I ever done that?"

Haley opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then shut it again, then opened it, then shut it again, then opened it again. "No," she said, surrendering.

An hour or so later, the two girls were at Gloria Krendell's library of a house. Though she'd long since stopped being the Wizard City librarian, Gloria still kept a lot of books around, for which Saffron was most grateful. Today, Haley was also rather grateful for her aunt's bookish tendencies. Of course, Gloria wasn't actually the girls' aunt, but she may as well have been.

The book Haley had chosen was called _Legends of the Elements_ by Franklin Fireeyes, and she found it quite interesting.

_"Before time as we know it, there existed the Tritons, _it said. _They shared the universe with the Dragons and Giants. The Tritons ruled the seas and kept peace in the world, that is, until the Dragons and Giants began to scheme. When the attack happened, the Tritons were ready. They refused to fully destroy their enemy and so, fell into slumber as their price for mercy. The Tritons will awaken one day and only The Diviners can stop them. _

_Today, the Storm elements still exist. Even now the more potent Storm Magic holds Fire and Ice at bay..."_

The funny thing was, though, that the next chapter said something completely different:

_"In the beginning there were the Giants who were great in power and ruled the air.  
After the Great War with the Dragons and the Tritons, the Giants went into a state of stasis.  
But their powers still inhabit our world and it is from this that Ice Magic derives its basis.  
And because it is derived from the Giants, Ice Magic will always be more powerful than that of Fire and Storm..."_

And the _third_ chapter said something still different than the first two:

_"In the days of yore, there dwelled the Giants, the Tritons, and the most powerful of all, the Dragons.  
_  
_For many eons there was peace, that is until the Tritons and the Giants began to bicker on trivial matters.  
_  
_Finally, war broke out between the two sides and the Dragons became involved as the universe was threatened.  
In order for there to be peace, the Dragons used their great power to stop the war and the world became dormant and silent.  
Though the Dragons now sleep, Fire Magic, the most powerful of magics, comes from the essence that the Dragons released into fire and magma..."_

Haley thought this was all very confusing, and it managed to take her mind out of current events. Who had started the Great War? Was it the Tritons, the Dragons, or the Giants?

"It's strange isn't it?" a voice asked from behind the girl.

Haley jumped and nearly dropped _Legends of the Elements_. "Aunt Gloria!" she yelled accusingly. "Don't do that!"

There was a chuckle as a woman sat down next to the girl. The woman had fiery red hair that was up in a hastily made bun, and kind brown eyes. She wore khakis, a maroon button-down with mid-length sleeves, and rectangular glasses. She looked more like a teacher to Haley than either of Haley's parents, who actually _were_ teachers.

"Who _really_ started the Great War?" Haley asked.

"It depends on who you ask," Gloria replied. "If you ask a Diviner, they're likely to say the Dragons or the Giants. If you ask a Thaumaturge, they'll probably say Tritons or Dragons. If you ask a Pyromancer, they'll say Giants or Tritons. Answers vary with the spirit schools. No one knows for sure."

"What do you think?" Haley asked.

"I think it was all three," Gloria replied, "But none of them wanted to admit it, so they blamed the others."

Haley nodded pensively. "I think it was the Giants; they didn't have much of a story. Maybe they started acting suspicious and the Dragons and Tritons joined in later."

"Maybe," Gloria said.

A bit less than a week afterward, the Drake family had suffered a great scare and several moments of smaller panic as they had gone from healer to healer. No one could figure out exactly how to heal Sylvia, and the desperate family had resorted to traveling to Earth in the hope that they may have seen something like this before.

And so it was that Saffron and Haley Drake sat in the waiting room of Mercy Hospital, white-knuckled and whispering prayers to various deities in the hope that one of them would be real and thoughtful enough to answer. After several hours, though, they ran out of deities. Having prayed to every god and goddess that may or may not exist, the girls just sat in their cheaply-made waiting room chairs, clutching each other's hands for dear life, eyes closed. Despite the fact that the two had stayed up for several days straight without caffeine, neither was even close to sleeping.

"Are you girls okay?" a woman's voice asked from behind them.

Haley opened her eyes and turned around to face the woman, a nurse in the hospital. "What do you think?" Haley snapped. "We're in a hospital and we've been praying for nine hours straight."

"That's a no then?"

"Of course it's a bloody no!" Haley yelled.

The nurse stared at the girl, wide-eyed, as did most everyone else in the waiting room.

"Our mom has been going from doctor to doctor and healer to healer for days and no one can find what's wrong with her other than she's coughing up blood. Of course I'm not okay and I doubt my sister is either, you pillock!"

"I'm sorry,"' the nurse apologized frantically.

"You should be!" Haley snapped.

"It's perfectly alright," Saffron said quietly from her seat, turning around, "But you probably shouldn't ask people in the waiting room at a hospital if they're okay."

The nurse nodded and hurried back of toward the reception desk before Haley could hurl anymore British swears and/or angry words at her.

"You didn't have to do that," Saffron said to her sister as the two turned back around to sit more comfortably.

But Haley wasn't listening, she was staring at Malistaire, who had taken a seat next to Cyrus across the room, and had his head in his hands. After a moment, Cyrus said something; Malistaire looked up; Cyrus said something else, looking shocked and horrified; Malistaire shook his head and said something; a few more words were exchanged in a conversation that neither Saffron nor Haley could quite hear due to the waiting room not being exactly quiet. A woman Haley knew to be Miss Wu came up behind the brothers, who drew their wands then put them away once they saw who it was. A few more words were exchanged, Miss Wu walked away, and the brothers got up and walked through the gray plastic and metal hall doors and into the main hospital.

Haley looked away from her father and uncle to her sister. "What do you think is going on?"

Saffron shook her head.

"I didn't hear what they said either," the younger girl replied.

The two sat in solemn silence once more. Ten minutes passed. Still the two men didn't return*.

"Do you think...?' Haley started.

Saffron ran her hands through her chestnut hair, which was somewhat of a challenge, since she'd neglected to brush it that morning. The girl shook her head again. It seemed she was trying to distance herself from the world for something she knew was going to happen. Haley, buried in her own worries, didn't notice this.

Gloria Krendell walked out of the hall doors, though neither Saffron nor Haley could remember her going in them or entering the hospital at all. Did she have tears in her eyes or was it a trick of the light? The redhead walked up to the two girls, looking like every step caused her unimaginable pain.

"No," Haley whispered. She knew what had happened even before it was said. "Please no."

Gloria took a seat next to Saffron, obviously holding back tears. "Your mother is… she's gone," Gloria said in a barely audible whisper. "I'm sorry."

Haley was in shock. "What?" she asked, sure she'd heard wrong or that the woman had meant something else. Surely she couldn't mean that, could she?

"Sylvia is dead," Gloria whispered hoarsely.


	5. Chapter 3: May 2005-February 2006

Several weeks passed and the girls were beginning to fear that they had lost their father too. As more time went by, Saffron and Haley started having to do more and more chores until it started to seem like they were the parents. Not to mention that Malistaire was hardly eating anything. It scared the two of them to no end.

"I'm worried," Haley confided in her sister one evening while the two figured out how to make pasta from scratch. They had decided not to ask Gloria since they figured she had enough on her mind already.

"I know," Saffron said quietly, flattening out the dough.

"Daddy isn't acting like… well like Daddy," Haley said.

Saffron nodded slowly, as if in a trance. "He's acting like a hollow shell of his former self, but I don't blame him. He's known Mommy since they were kids. It would be like you if Malorn died."

That analogy made Haley stop pressing the dough. "Did you have to say that?"

"You need to see it from his perspective."

"And he needs to see it from ours. We're the ones who just lost our mom."

"And he just lost his wife of nine years and friend of seven years before that," Saffron said, "You need to stop being so hard, Haley. If you can't do it for Daddy, do it for me. I have just as bad a lot as you."

Haley hung her head and kept pressing the pasta dough. "Can you pass me the knife?" she asked.

Saffron passed her a steak knife and Haley got to work slicing her dough into thin strips.

"Do you think Daddy'll be alright?" the older girl asked

"Of course he will," Saffron replied, looking for all the world like she knew the opposite was true.

"Soup's on!" Haley yelled, setting two bowls on the table, one in her spot and one at Malistaire's already occupied place.

Saffron set her bowl at her spot and stared ruefully at the place next to it. The chair was gone, but there was no hiding that the table was made for four people, not three. The five year old took her seat, feeling solemn rather than proud of the dinner she and her sister had prepared.

As Haley sat down to eat, she found herself thinking that dinner wasn't at all like it used to be. Less than a month ago, things would have been different. Malistaire might have been cracking jokes instead of sitting silently and looking half dead. Saffron might have looked more content. Haley might have been more talkative. And, of course, Sylvia would have been there.

Haley half-heartedly twirled her fork in her pasta, thinking to herself about better days. She couldn't see how things could get much worse, with the exception of Saffron dying.

Haley took several slow bites of her pasta before deciding that it was undercooked. _Oh well, _she thought_, at least we managed to make something_ _aside from bread and butter tonight._

The dark haired girl looked over at her lighter haired sister to see that she had more or less the same reaction to their cooking, but both managed to finish with the aid of a glass of water each. The girls decided not to go back for seconds.

"G'night, Daddy," Haley said as she got up.

"Good night, Daddy," Saffron said, on the verge of tears.

"Good night," Malistaire said, though Haley suspected it was more habit than anything else. He had scarcely said anything else all day.

As the sisters walked away from the dining room and into the miniscule hallway that separated their rooms from the dining room, they realized that they honestly only had each other left. As soon as they closed the door behind them, Saffron broke down.

"I can't do this anymore," she sobbed. "We're the kids, damn it! _He_ should be taking care of _us_!"

Haley's eyes widened. Her goody-two-shoes little sister -who hadn't thrown a single tantrum since she was a week old and had never cursed in her life- had just yelled, cried, and cursed all in the same breath.

The startled seven year old continued to stare at Saffron for quite some time as the latter kept on venting, spouting various curses in both English and Latin for a good ten minutes straight.

"I don't want to live like this the rest of my life," the younger girl finally said. "I think I'm going crazy. I can't live like this for another _week_, let alone until I die."

Haley finally got over her shock long enough to say, "You can, Saffron. We'll both get through this somehow, okay? I promise."

"That's a dangerous promise," Saffron said, regaining her composure, "but I appreciate the thought."

CRACK!

Haley shot up from her bed, where she had been sleeping only moments before.

"What was that?!" she yelled.

A thud sounded from the other room. "Ow!"

"Saffron?" Haley shouted. "What _was_ that?"

"I don't know," Saffron's voice said from the other room, "unless you meant me falling out of bed."

"Come on," Haley said loudly, walking out of her bedroom door in her purple flannel dark sprite pajamas. "We're going to find out what that noise was."

Saffron stepped out of her room in green flannel sprite pajamas, toting a teddy bear in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other. Her hair was in two short pigtail-like braids, which she always put in before bedtime. "Why?"

"Because I want to know what that noise was and I'm not leaving you here alone," Haley stated.

"Daddy's here," Saffron said sleepily.

"Like I said: alone," Haley repeated impatiently.

Even when she was half asleep, Saffron knew it was best to let her sister's temporary madness fly. "Okay," said the green-eyed girl.

Haley grabbed her little sister's arm and practically dragged her to the front door of the house, through the Commons to near the Fairgrounds, and through the Ravenwood tunnel.

CRACK!

The sound was almost deafeningly loud now.

"The Death school!" Haley yelled. The sisters, now both as awake as a ninja with a caffeine addiction, ran toward the aforementioned destination to find it looking like it had been hit by an earthquake. The entire grounds were encircled by deep crevices.

"By Bartleby," Haley gasped. She saw a glimmering gold dragon curled up on top of a circular ruby on the top of a magenta staff, heard a large sounding boom, smelled a hint of the girls' bad cooking from that evening, tasted bitter air mixed with dirt and half-dead grass, and felt a dull ache on the back of her head. Then, everything went black.

"Ugh, I feel awful," was the first thing the amber-eyed girl could recall saying when she awoke. The second thing she recalled saying was something along the lines of "Where the blazes _am_ I?!"

She heard someone say, not unkindly "You're in Marleybone, dear."

"Why am I in Marleybone?" Haley asked, opening her eyes the very least she could so as to let in as little light as possible, but still see her surroundings. She felt like a pickaxe had hit her in the back of the head. Furthermore, it felt like the pickaxe was _still lodged _in her head.

"Someone found you on the side of the road this morning with some sort of hex on you and brought you here," the voice said. "I dunno how you got here in the first place." Haley could see enough of the person talking to tell that in was a woman in Post-Victorian nurse clothes. Yep, it was Marleybone alright.

"Just me?" Haley asked, feeling somewhat panicked.

"Yes, just you," the Post-Victorian nurse woman replied, confirming the girl's worst fears.

"I have to find Saffron!" Haley said frantically, beginning to sit up. She cried out in pain and plummeted back down; now feeling more like a pickaxe had hit _every_ nerve in her brain instead of only the back ones. _What kind of a hex have I been hit with?_

"Saffron who?" the Post-Victorian nurse asked, though Haley scarcely heard it.

"Saffron Drake," she managed to say, "my sister."

The nurse woman said something that Haley couldn't make out due to her concentration on the stabbing pain in her head, and then the girl blacked out again.

The second time she woke up, Haley was alone. Her Hindbrain still hurt like the Dickens, but it was a lot better than before. She felt like she was supposed to be doing something, but she didn't know what exactly. Then, it came to her like lightning had jolted her memory banks. _Saffron!_

Haley started to sit up, but found that she couldn't. This time, it wasn't because of the pain in her head, but because of shackles on her wrists and the fact that she was already chained to a wall. Experimentally, she wiggled her legs. Her ankles were shackled as well. Haley began to panic as she looked at her surroundings. She was in a dungeon of some sort. The rough stone walls looked like they had been painted in mildew and the floor was a carpet of wet mold. The shackles that pulled her to the walls were old, rusted, and covered in what looked suspiciously like dried blood.

_Okay_, she thought, _so if this is Marleybone, where could I be?_

The list was endless. And that was assuming this was the same place as earlier, which the amber-eyed girl highly doubted. Earlier, she had felt safe and had been comfortably warm. She had most definitely _not_ been in a cold, damp dungeon. Honestly, she could be in a million different places in _or_ out of Marleybone. There was really no telling.

Haley had a tiny shard of common sense buried somewhere deep in her brain, so she didn't scream for help, but focused more on her surroundings instead. She soon noticed that she wasn't the only one in the dungeon: chained up next to her was a red-haired girl in a tunic so covered in soot that it was hard to tell exactly what color it was. She was about nine or ten. Her eyes were closed, but she was clearly breathing.

"Hey," Haley whispered. "Hey!"

The girl's eyes shot open, revealing that they were lavender. "What?" she asked quietly.

"Do you know where we are?" Haley asked.

"I'm as clueless as you are," the redhead said. "One minute, I was in Dragonspyre. Next thing I know, I'm here."

"What's your name?" Haley asked.

"Natalie Titanspear," the girl answered. "What's yours?"

"Haley Drake," Haley told her.

Natalie smiled faintly. "That's a nice name," she commented. Haley suspected it was for the sake of conversation. "Are you from Earth?"

Haley shook her head. "No, I'm from Wizard City. What about you?"

"Dragonspyre," Natalie said.

"Why do you look like you just walked out of a fireplace?" Haley asked.

"It's a long story," Natalie said apprehensively.

Suddenly, the two heard footsteps from behind the walls. The girls fell silent and pretended to be unconscious, but Haley still kept her eyes open a crack. A spot on the slimy stone walls slid up to form an empty doorway and a rough-looking man entered the dungeon, followed by the woman who haunted Haley's dreams. Morganthe Sauda strode into the room like it was a throne room and she was its queen.

"You two can cut the act now," she said. "I know you're awake."

Haley and Natalie opened their eyes all the way and sat up. Haley scrambled backward as far as she could go. This was the woman who, whatever else she had done, had killed Sylvia Drake, the most powerful healer in the Spiral. And none too painlessly either.

Morganthe smirked, then waved the man back out of the wall panel. The wall closed behind him.

"Darn it," Natalie mumbled.

"Well hello girls!" Morganthe said brightly. Natalie raised an eyebrow, while Haley tried to figure out what her last words should be.

"Where are we?" Natalie asked none too fearfully.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Morganthe taunted, stepping somewhat closer to the wall where the girls were chained up.

"Where's my sister?" Haley asked shakily.

"You know, I honestly have no idea," Morganthe said, inspecting her nails. Haley's eyes widened in horror.

"What did you do to her?!" she screamed. Morganthe laughed.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the murderess teased. Haley closed her eyes, wishing she had her knives with her. Then she could show that biscuit eater what for. She also wouldn't be defenseless. There was that. She opened her eyes.

"No," Haley said, admitting it more to herself than the woman in front of her. She knew Morganthe could be cruel, and she didn't especially want to give the woman an opportunity to hurt her more than she was already going to.

"Smart girl," Morganthe commented. "I know of some heroes who could take a page from your book."

Haley hung her head. Natalie gave the younger girl a pitying glance.

"Why us?" Natalie asked. "I mean, why did you take us instead of someone more… important?"

"You on the other hand…" Morganthe began, whipping around to stare straight at Natalie. "You ask too many questions."

"And you don't give enough answers," Natalie retorted. Morganthe narrowed her dark eyes at the redhead and reached for the ankle-length hem of her skirt and pulled a dagger off the side of her right boot.

"Don't back-sass me," Morganthe said, waving the dagger in Natalie's face. The girl didn't even flinch.

"You don't scare me," she said calmly. "I've seen worse than the likes of you."

"You have not!" Morganthe yelled. "I am the Spider Queen, Conqueror of Celestia, Master of-"

"Are you finished?" Natalie asked. "I'm getting bored."

Morganthe's eyes blazed hotter than the deepest pits of the Underworld. She slashed at the redhead's cheek, leaving quite a mark. The girl showed no sign of pain.

Natalie shook her head in exasperation. "Try all you want, but you'll never break me. I've faced much scarier things than you."

This time, the Spider Queen stared at the girl as if trying to decide whether to kill the redhead on the spot or ask the girl to join her. Instead, she settled on quite different words.

"You don't know when to cooperate, do you?"

"I don't know what in the Spiral you're talking about," Natalie smirked. The blood from the wound on her cheek was still bleeding profusely, but the redhead didn't even acknowledge it.

Morganthe opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it again, and then exited the dungeon through the wall panel with all the sweeping theatrics she could muster.

"How did you do that?" Haley asked with wonder.

"Let's just say Dragonspyre Academy's enrollment teaches you a few things besides just how to fight," was Natalie's response as she inspected the shackles around her wrists. "Darn these things! They're the old-fashioned kind. With rust."

"Why is that bad?" Haley asked.

"Because rust is completely oblivious to magic," Natalie replied. "You don't happen to have a rock handy, do you?"

Haley shook her head. "Not unless I can teleport back to my house and grab it off my nightstand."

"Well, there goes that," Natalie sighed. "So what's it like in Wizard City?"

Haley thought for a moment. "It's bright and hot in the daytime, and it's still warm at night. It's never quiet because the Ravenwood kids are always busy with something. Oh, and there are a lot of secret doors."

Natalie chuckled. "That's not really what I meant. I meant what the people are like."

"Most of them are pretty nice," Haley said, "but there are a few mean ones. What about Dragonspyre?"

"It's hot and covered in lava. It always looks dark out, but you can see everything because of the light from the lava. It's almost always quiet because no one wants to be seen," Natalie said. "The people there are secretive, but also tough as nails from the time we learn to walk. From the age of five, most of us that are left from the sieges can take down a Draconian."

"That's not what I've heard about Dragonspyre," Haley said, bewildered. "I've always heard it was a paradise."

"Not anymore," Natalie said bitterly.

"So what's your family like?" Haley asked.

"My mom's strict, but not as much as some. A lot of people think she isn't strict enough," Natalie told the amber-eyed girl. "My dad's a lot like her. I have a little brother named Nicholas who likes to get in trouble and a little sister named Olivia who loves the library. It broke her heart when they torched it. I haven't seen any of them in months. What about your family?"

"My mom taught the Life school in Wizard City, and she was always willing to give anyone a chance with the art. She died in April because of Morganthe," Haley said, tearing up a little. "My little sister, Saffron, is a stickler for the rules. She's only cursed on one occasion in her entire life, and that was completely understandable. My dad teaches the Death school at Ravenwood. Last time I saw him, he was hardly there. He wouldn't eat, he barely slept, he only talked in the classroom, but somehow he still got up for work."

"You _have_ been out for a long time," Natalie commented. "As far as I know, no one teaches the Death school anymore."

"What do you mean?" Haley asked, bracing herself for the worst.

"The last person to teach the Death school is in Dragonspyre," Natalie said. "Is your father Malistaire Drake?"

"Yes."

"Then he's…" Natalie began. "He's the reason Dragonspyre is the way it is now."

Haley stared at Natalie in shock. She'd thought he was dead when the redhead hesitated, but this… this was much worse.

"I would pat you on the back, but I'm kind of chained to the wall," Natalie said.

Haley gave her a weak smile. "I appreciate the thought."

"Sorry I had to tell you, but Morganthe likes to hold things like that over people's heads. You needed to know."

"Thanks. I imagine it would have been worse if she'd told me." Haley paused. "I think she's scared of you, Natalie."

"I know," the redhead said, "but she'll figure out how to deal with me soon enough. Trust me on that."

"How do you know?" Haley asked.

"Because I've been awake longer than you have," Natalie said. "I've seen her 'take care' of tons of people using different torture methods. Physical torture is easy for me. It's psychological torture I can't deal with."

"What's the difference?'

"Physical torture is like if she cuts someone with a knife or starts casting curses on them. It hurts people on the outside," Natalie explained. "Psychological torture is when she brings someone's worst fear into the room or brings up parts of their past that they aren't proud of. It hurts people on the inside. It's also really easy for her to combine the two, since she seems to like coming up with new spells."

Haley nodded. "So how long do you think it'll be before she switches to torturing me?"

"Not long," Natalie said. "You'll have to either learn to hold your own against that ipsum or figure out how to die on the spot. You've made yourself look weak from the start. You have to be strong."

"But I'm _not_ strong," Haley insisted.

"You said you have a little sister," Natalie began. "Be strong for her. Because if you aren't, you might not see her again."

The next day, Haley awoke to the always pleasant sensation of being struck on the cheek with the hilt of a dagger. It hurt like heck. Combine that with the still-present headache in her Hindbrain, and you get a girl who wished she was at home in bed. With an icepack. And a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

The girl moaned as she opened her amber eyes.

"Good morning sunshine," said a voice like poisoned honey.

"I beg to differ," Haley mumbled, tentatively touching her cheek where she'd been struck. _That's going to bruise._

"Well 'good morning' to you too," Natalie said. "I'd hate to see what you consider a bad morning, though." Haley could see that the redhead also had a bruise blooming on her right cheek.

"You two are going to spill that secret if I have to torture you within an inch of your pitiful lives for it," Morganthe said abruptly, pointing her stygian dagger at first Natalie then Haley.

"What secret?" Haley asked. "I know lots."

"Don't play dumb with me!" Morganthe snapped. "I know you know what secret I'm talking about."

"No, actually, I don't," Haley replied. "For all I know you could be talking about what the last thing I ate was. That's somewhat of a secret. I think it was an IV tube."

Natalie stared at the amber-eyed girl for a moment, dumbfounded. "You _ate_ an IV tube?"

"Well, not exactly," Haley began. "It was probably fed through a needle in my arm."

Natalie nodded understandingly. "I ate gruel."

"What's gruel?"

"It's pig slop."

"What's pig slop?"

"It's what farmers feed pigs."

"What are pigs?"

"They're like-"

"SILENCE!" Morganthe yelled. "Tell me the secret!"

"To what?" Natalie asked, having way too much fun baiting the Spider Queen. "To making gruel? You just grind up a bunch of garbage and put it in a bowl of dishwater."

Morganthe stepped closer, miraculously not slipping in her high-heeled boots on the slick stone floor, and jammed her knife forward almost to Natalie's chest. She narrowed her eyes at the redhead.

"Don't play games with me," the woman hissed. "The secret to your powers."

"Powers?" Haley asked, bewildered.

"What powers?" said Natalie, pretending to be clueless. A fracture of anxiety was visible in her lavender eyes.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" Morganthe said triumphantly, all but nose to nose with the girl.

"No," Natalie deadpanned. She didn't even wince as Morganthe pressed her dagger into the soft skin beneath the redhead's elbow.

"So that's what your power is," Morganthe said. "You can't feel physical pain."

"Maybe I just have a high pain tolerance," Natalie retorted.

"High? Try nonexistent," Morganthe scoffed.

Natalie rolled her eyes.

"I know just how to deal with you," the murderess sneered. Then, she strode over to Haley and placed her knife on the terrified girl's throat. "Tell me the secret to your ability or watch her," Morganthe jerked her head toward Haley, "die a _very_ painful death."

Haley was terrified, yet at the same time had a lingering sense of how poetic this all was. She was about to die just like her mother: in agony and as leverage that was no longer needed. Haley was looking Natalie straight in the eye. _Please don't let me die like this,_ she silently pleaded. _I know you hardly know me, but I don't want to die like this. Please help me._

Natalie's eyes darted back and forth between Haley and Morganthe, indecisive. After much wrangling with her conscience, the redhead made up her mind.

"It's genetic," she surrendered. "Celestia went through a nuclear phase thousands of years ago and a lot of people's DNA was mutated because of it. Most of them got different types of cancer and died, but a very small number's DNA was mutated in a way that gave them unique abilities. I'm a descendant of one of one of the second group."

Morganthe kept her knife pressed lightly against Haley's throat. The amber-eyed girl yelped as it dug into her skin.

"Stop!" Natalie yelled. "I told you what you wanted!"

"Is there another way to gain these powers?" Morganthe demanded.

"No," Natalie said. "You have to be a descendant. Just let her go! She's not one of us!"

"One of us?" Morganthe repeated, a single questioning eyebrow raised. Natalie looked taken aback

"The descendants," the redhead said hurriedly. "I meant she's not one of the descendants. She doesn't have any special powers. She's just a normal kid."

"But leverage nonetheless," Morganthe said icily, stepping back from the amber-eyed girl and bringing the stygian dagger with her. A thin red line had appeared across Haley's neck where the knife had pressed against her flesh.

In one fluid movement, the Spider Queen whipped her black-bladed knife back to the side of her boot.

"All too easy," she said, grinning like a sadistic child who'd just won a goldfish at the carnival and was thinking of ways to make the remainder of the fish's short life as miserable as possible.

"You know, it's actually a little bit disappointing," Morganthe commented casually. "I was so looking forward to the screaming."

"You're insane," Haley mumbled in horrified awe.

"Probably," the murderess mused, "more than a decade of misery and loathing hasn't exactly contributed to my mental stability. And then there was your mother. She didn't exactly help that either."

"My mother?" Haley echoed, half wanting Morganthe to continue even as Natalie frantically shook her head.

"You didn't honestly think I killed her for no reason, did you?" the woman asked with a knowing smile. "But that's a story for another day, now isn't it?"

Then she sashayed out of the dungeon without another word, the wall panel closing immediately after her.

Natalie ran her fingers across the rusted metal of the shackles that bound her to the wall. "There has to be a lock somewhere," she mumbled. "These _can't_ closed by magic. If I could just find the lock…"

Haley, meanwhile, was not bothering herself with such trivial matters as escape. "What did she do?" the girl half murmured, half whimpered.

"What did who do?" Natalie asked.

"My mom," Haley said. "What did she do to make Morganthe so angry?"

"Oh," Natalie said, going back to combing her shackles for a lock or keyhole. "If it makes you feel any better, it was probably something really small. Most Zafarians are _very _temperamental. The humans are worse than the lions by a long shot."

"What?" Haley asked, turning to face Natalie with her dark eyebrows raised.

"Zafaria: the world of lions, zebras, and the occasional desperate tribe of humans," Natalie said, then, under her breath, she added, "There has to be a lock or a keyhole or _something_. It can't just be solid metal because then she'd _need_ magic to lock it, and you can't use magic when rust is involved… Aha!"

Natalie grinned as her fingers ran across a small keyhole. "Are you wearing a hairpin?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Darn it," the redhead mumbled. "Do you have any lock picks?"

"Not at the moment," Haley replied. "I kind of got up in the middle of the night, then woke up in Marleybone, and then I was here."

"That's very interesting, but distinctly unhelpful right now," Natalie commented. "I need a hairpin or something. You know, it's times like this I wish I was a girly-girl. Then I'd have a bunch of hairpins…"

"Shh, I hear someone coming," Haley whispered. Natalie quit talking and stopped fiddling with her shackles just as the panel cracked open. Plates of gruel hit the girls' faces.

"My trash needs a little more food," Natalie yelled as the panel closed again. The plate fell off of her face, revealing that it was totally solid and hadn't shifted at all. It looked like someone had made a plastic model of vomit, put it on a tray, and called it food. "At least it's not road pizza this time. That was terrible."

"Road pizza?" Haley asked, her so-called food falling to the floor. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"It's a lot worse than you think," Natalie assured her. "At least I can't tell who's in this one."

"You said 'who'," Haley said nervously.

"I know."

There was a long silence as the realization set in that neither of the two girls knew what (or who) was on the plates in front of them.

"Do you think it's a person?" Haley asked after a while.

Natalie shook her head. "It's impossible to tell. Maybe. It doesn't really matter; we won't get to eat at all unless we can get out of these chains."

Haley found herself thinking longingly of the vegetarian chili her mom used to make. Oh, what she wouldn't give for some real food…

"I have an idea," Haley blurted out. "Can you reach your boot laces?"

"I can probably grind at them with one of my feet," Natalie said. "Wait, you're going to try to use a boot lace to pick a lock, aren't you?"

"I was planning to," Haley answered.

"No offense, but you're an idiot," the redhead deadpanned.

"How could I not be offended by that?" Haley asked.

"Good point, but it's really obvious that you can't pick a lock with a boot lace," Natalie said.

"Why not?" Haley said indignantly.

"Boot laces are kind of… floppy," the redhead said.

"Floppy?" the younger girl echoed.

"Yes, floppy," Natalie confirmed.

"That's a funny word," Haley commented.

"I know. That's why I didn't want to use it," the redhead sighed. "Anyway, we need to figure out a way to pick these locks without magic."

"While our hands and feet are chained up," Haley added.

"Thank you," Natalie said through gritted teeth.

"I just thought I'd add that."

Natalie gave Haley a glare that could freeze a volcano over. "I'm seriously considering leaving you here when I escape."

"Duly noted," Haley said perhaps a little too cheerfully.

"Wait!" Natalie said. Her face brightened as she fingered her shackles. "I think I found something!"

"What?" Haley asked interestedly; hope was sparkling in her amber eyes.

The redhead's face fell.

"Nothing," she said. "I thought I'd found a release switch, but it's just a snag."

"Oh," Haley said, slumping back against the wall and immediately regretted it. The walls were even slimier than they'd first appeared. "Do you think we'll ever get out?"

"We might if we're smart enough," Natalie replied. "Anyway, wasn't I just saying that I'm considering leaving you here?"

"Have you decided yet?" Haley asked.

"Ask again when I get these shackles off.

"Do you think she'll let us go?" Haley said after a moment of silence. "I mean, you told her what she wanted to know."

Natalie shook her head. "It's never that simple. There's always something else, a catch of some kind. It seems like Morganthe just likes watching people suffer, so suffer we will."

"That's terrible," Haley said. "Why would you _want_ to watch someone hurting?"

"I don't know," Natalie whispered, as if thinking aloud. She yawned. "I'm going to sleep now, alright?"

"Okay," Haley said quietly, staring at the wall in front of her.

Natalie was asleep in five minutes flat, and snoring in eight. Haley, however, didn't sleep at all. The amber-eyed girl stared at the wall, seeing images in the stones and algae. At first, the pictures were simply a way to pass the time, an amusement, but then they became a timeline mapping everything that had ever happened in this room.

There was always a trace, no matter how small, left behind of what had transpired in any given location. Not only did the dungeon have a grim appearance, but it didn't feel right to Haley. Having lived in a house where nothing was as it seemed, with a family that was stranger than most, Haley had an acute sense of when things weren't right. This dungeon, to the amber-eyed girl, was begging to have its mysteries unraveled.

A missing piece of stone, a spot of blood, a broken chain; they all told different stories, not necessarily about Morganthe or her prisoners. In a missing stone, Haley saw a mystery_. Where has it gone?_ In a spot of blood, she saw someone's story. _Who were they? _In a broken chain, she saw an escape. _Where did they go? Are they still alive now?_

All night, Haley sat awake, wondering who those people were and what kind of fate hers would be. Would she be a spatter of blood on the wall or a missing stone? Or maybe she would be a broken chain, though she somehow doubted it. The amber-eyed girl could never actually break a chain that thick.


End file.
